


the drug in me is you

by dualaqua



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Implied love so i'm putting it as a relationship, M/M, Prompt Fic, Stalking, Torture, ghosty just gets off in unconventional ways, mental aguish, name carving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23197804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dualaqua/pseuds/dualaqua
Summary: Ghostface has been not-so-subtley stalking Frank. When finally confronted, Ghostface shows Frank what's he has really been thinking about doing to him.
Relationships: Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/Frank Morrison
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	the drug in me is you

**Author's Note:**

> ""anonymous asked: I love your writing! For a prompt for Frank x Ghostface I have: “If you want me, come and get me.” :)"" Anon I'm SO FUCKING SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG but here it is now  
> EDIT: fixed grammar issues and random missing words

Ghostface had been annoying you to the point where you were about to pin him down, start cutting into his throat and not stop until you severed his head off, while then proceeding to shit down his bleeding corpse's throat.

Which is to say, about as much as he normally does.

Everyday it's the same, where you'll be going about your business and spot him hiding away, stalking you. Taking pictures of you. Writing notes while facing you; expression hidden under the comically twisted mask.

Everyday it's the same, where you ignore him hoping he'll just go away, and after a few hours sprint towards where he was camped out and scream, "Get the fuck away from here!"

You only knew his name from the other killers who mention him from time to time in conversation, mostly about how he annoys the living shit out of all of them as well. Yet every single one of them noted that since you and the rest of the legion arrived in the fog, his appearances had been only in your realm.

You would've killed him already if he started targeting Joey, Julie or Susie- especially Susie- but his focus has mostly been on you and you alone. Therefore, it's mostly turned into habit as you light your first smoke in the morning to not go back inside until you find him, then turn it into a begrudgingly long staring contest.

Today you decided to stand there and stare back without looking away, for as long as you could manage. He stays still behind a snow drift he's peeking out behind from, underneath one of the ski lifts. You match his fixated look as you lean up against the resort, crossing one leg at the ankle of the other; going through your most recently yanked pack of smokes from the older survivor to pass the time.

About three hours pass, based solely on how many smokes you went through in that time frame. Luckily nothing out here worked like it normally should, so you weren't cold from standing outside and watching him, despite the snow all around you.

The entire time you watch him, he only ever moves to look down, and scribble more notes before looking back up and becoming statuesque once more. What the fuck could he even be writing about? _'Frank is on his fifth smoke'_?

Agitation sets in, finally making you just roll your eyes and stalk towards him, brandishing your knife and ever so politely asking, "What the ever loving fuck is your problem, retard! You never do anything besides watch me, take pictures and scribble in your shitty little notebook. What the fuck do you even write down?!"

For the first time, he didn't vanish back into the trees surrounding the realm as you rapidly approach him, standing still at a small, concealed nook under the lift. 

As you close in the last few feet between you both, he keeps still but waggles his finger at you, like a parent scolding a child. A barely audible laugh resonates under the mask. 

Anger rips through you at the taunt, and you bolt quicker towards him. But he backs up just as quick, missing your quick slash to his throat. He keeps your exact pace moving backwards, carefully placing each step while bobbing and weaving each cut and jab. You snarl in frustration, blood lust building as you’re determined to land a hit.

You fake him out in the next try; moving for a jab in the side, which he dodges, and using where your knife was already pointed out to drag it at an angle across his chest. You land a deep, successful gash across the front of his jacket. He lets out a low grunt, off balance now, and as you go to pierce his throat- and he vanishes into a black mist, moved into a trial.

" _Fuck!_ " You scream at the top of your lungs, gripping your knife hard at your side and kicking the nearest tree you could find, before resolving to bury your knife down into it as well.

“Fucking Entity with its stupid fucking pets, whisking them away for trials when they are about to get the ass beating they deserve…” you mutter angrily to yourself.

After a few minutes of pacing back and forth while grinding your teeth, you walk back to the tree and rip your knife out. You start stomping back towards the resort, vision red with fury for the creep that just would not leave you alone, and notice something black sticking out of the snow.

A cell phone.

A manic smile erupts on your face, erasing any frustration as you sweep it up from it's spot on the ground and shove it into your pocket. Your stomps turn into strides, and you're whistling by the time you go back inside the lodge.

"The fuck you so happy 'bout?" Joey asks from his spot on the couch next to Julie. Susie must've been at a trial.

You toss the phone at him and he catches it in one swift motion, turning it over in his hands and eyeing it. 

"Where the fuck did you get this?" Julie asks, looking it over in Joey's hands. He starts to dial a number but all he's met with is a dial tone.

"Shitface dropped it as I went after him for staring at me too long, again. Vanished up into a trial before I could get any good cuts in, fucking pussy ass bitch ignoring a fight as always."

Julie makes a snorting noise. "You'd think that with how obsessed he is with you and none of the rest of us, he would've welcomed a fight by now. You were out there staring him down for like, hours."

"Bet he was jerkin' it behind a pile of snow while they watched each other," Joey remarks without looking up, continuing to press in different numbers and getting the same dial tone.

Julie laughs and you scowl at him, hating how he may be right.

"Great, so you're saying my attempt in scaring him off only gave him a free fucking show? Thanks for the confidence in my ability to make people fuck off."

"No problem, bud." He says cheerily after looking up, a huge smile on his face before tossing you the phone.

"It's powered on but it absolutely can't send calls out. Not sure what freakface was doing with it, but either way he'll probably want it back. Just keep it on you and I'm sure you'll get the fight you're looking for when he comes to take it back."

You nod, shoving it back into your pocket before turning and moving towards the stairs.

"I'm gonna go take a nap, focusing on that creep made me tired. He's gonna notice it's gone quickly, and I wanna be prepped tonight when he comes for it."

Julie nods in agreement. "We'll switch out trial shifts for today until he shows up, so you can take the day off. We'll stay down here for when he comes, so grab whoever's here for the fight, yeah?"

"Yeah, thanks," you murmur and head up to your room. You shrug off your outer layers, leaving you in only your briefs before laying down on the mattress. You close your eyes, thinking about the fight to come, and within seconds you're out like a light.

* * *

The sound of a phone buzzing wakes you up. You crack open one eye, reaching into your pocket and digging out the cell to look at the green lit screen.

 _'Unknown Caller'_ , it reads out in black, pixelated letters, and continues to ring in your hands. You sit up, scratching your head and trying to wake up a bit more before answering and putting it up to your ear.

"Hello?" You mutter, voice heavy from sleep.

"Hello?" A low, raspy voice answers back. The taunt wakes you up faster, anger already setting in.

"How the fuck are you calling this phone? Who are you?"

"I think the better question, Frank, is why you're holding onto _my_ phone, and how you haven’t already figured out I can do whatever the fuck I want here. I wasn't ready for us to reach the phone chatting point of our relationship, but you've forced my hand, I suppose."

You sneer at the air, tightening your grip on the cheap plastic. "If you didn't want me to fucking grab it, be more careful with your Entity gifted shit while watching me all fucking day. My realm, my rules; so finders keepers, cock sucker," you growl out before hitting the 'end call' button. The line goes dead and you sigh, realizing you should've prompted a fight with him before ending it.

The line starts ringing again. Maybe luck was on your side, after all. You answer it, and he starts speaking before you can even open your mouth to say something.

"Interesting for you to call me the cock sucker, Frank, when we all know you're the one that's repressed."

You grind your teeth. Two could play at that game.

"I think you're projecting, Ghostface. Only a faggot would spend so much time stalking another man, and I can't imagine _why_ you would get off taking pictures of me outside takin' a smoke break, but I know you do."

He replies without missing a beat.

"Bold of you to assume I haven't taken pictures of you while you've slept, or when you're inside shooting the shit with your little friends. Speaking of which- Only Susie and Julie are downstairs, now. Did Joey run off after your last failed attempt to have him fuck you?" He asks in a mockingly concerned voice, a smirk nearly audible. "I almost felt bad. There isn't many other gay men in the fog."

Your body goes cold as your mind races, processing what he just said. How much had he seen? How often was he inside the resort with all of you, watching you in your private times? 

A few more moments pass in silence as it dawns on you that he only let himself be found during the daytime. To make you think that he was easy to find, that he wasn't a real threat; maybe even so you could get used to his presence and allow him around you that much more. Anger boils in your stomach as you finally reply.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, do you know that!? I want you to show your stupidly masked face, and I want to rip it off before carving you open!"

"If you want me that bad, then come and get me, Franky."

"Only if you stop hiding," you growl into the phone, your hands shaking with rage. You could barely hear anything outside of blood pumping in your ears, ignoring a faint creak behind you as you watch the phone go dead.

You stare at the screen go blank, in disbelief of him backing out of a fight he instigated, until his voice murmurs behind you, "I've always been right where you can find me."

A gloved hand covers your mouth before you can yell out, followed by a knee driving into your back and pushing you down onto the bed. His knee digs into the top of your spine with a heavy boot on your tailbone, pressing harder down as you try getting up while shoving a cloth into your mouth and tying it at the back of your head.

The weight and pressure of his entire body on your spine kept you down better than you ever thought it could have, digging into pressure points as he grabs each of your wrists behind you, holding them in a locked hard grip. You cough into your mouth gag, the putrid scent of his cheap cologne filling your nostrils as his head hovers above your own while starting to tie your wrists together with rope. He starts speaking in a rushed voice as you continue to try and buck him off.

"Shhh, baby. You gotta stop fighting so I can make this nice and good for you. You'll be my good boy, won't you?" He leers from above your head as you try to lift yourself up to fight, or twist your head around enough to see him.

"Your friends aren't coming up here, they're too busy listening to music. I probably don't need to gag you with how loud that shit is pumping through their headphones- but hey, I'm thorough."

He chuckles at the end, and continues working the rope up your arms, twisting it up before tying it at the top, underneath your armpits. You let out a quick, annoyed sigh through your nose, but still your movements. If he was just going to fuck you, it would be over with quick- and if you accept, you can walk out of it with _some_ pride left. Say you let him sneak up on you. Hell, you may even enjoy it.

He flips you around to face him, tilting his head to the side as you attempt to see a face underneath the fabric in the eyeholes. You can hear him make a soft, thoughtful hum as he trails his fingers down the side of your face, almost like he was admiring you.

"Now. I've been imagining how I want to do this for only a little bit now, there hasn’t been a lot of time to build up a proper fantasy. But, since you were so rude to speed this process up, I’ll do the best I can," he says, before taking his hand away from your face. You watch as it moves to around his thigh, under his cloak. Was that fucker really carrying a bottle of lube in his pockets? Was he a goddamn boy scout?

"Why don't you make a nice noise under that mask to get us started off? If you do, this will go so much easier for you," he purrs.

You squint your eyes at him, refusing to make a sound. If he wanted moans that quick, he would have to earn or force them from you. You don't give that shit up for free.

He waits patiently for a few moments, leering down at you to see if you'll give him what he asked for, before tipping his head back and lightly laughing. The deepness and genuinity of it confuses you.

"I love that about you, Franky. So obstinate, so defiant. I knew we were going to have to do this the hard way, but I'm alright with that. I’ve already imagined so many ways to _force_ you into making those noises for me."

You roll your eyes, waiting to see what this dork really thinks he can do to you. You start to run possible scenarios through your head, ranging from simple edging to even more bondage- until he pulled his hand back out from under the cloak, revealing he was unsheathing a large, serrated knife.

"One last chance, since I have such a soft spot for you. Easy way, or hard way?"

You narrow your eyes at him, and give a soft huff of defiance. You could do blood-play, that wouldn't make you give in. Even simple torture wouldn't. 

"Uck ou," you growl from beneath your gag, making sure to keep eye contact with the cloth covered holes. He was hiding behind it outside of a trial, like a coward. No matter what he did to you, he would always just be a coward.

He chuckles darkly before cutting your boxers off, exposing your half hardened length from all the contact on your unclothed body. Softly, he trails the knife up and down your inner thigh while looking up to your face, tilting his head to the side.

"We haven't even started, and you're already getting needy for me. You're so adorable."

You're about to jerk up and knee him in the back for the comment, but in that second his knife was already in between your legs. He pokes the tip into the base of your cock, and you stay still as it presses in, a small pinch drawing blood.

"Here first? Or, maybe here…" He trails off, moving the knife back up to your thigh before slowly pressing the blade in. It breaks through your flesh, and you squeeze your eyes shut to focus on not giving in. But he keeps sinking it into you, deeper and deeper, forcing you to let out soft cries of pain from under the gag. You can hear his breathing under the mask- heavy, excited, as the warm feeling of blood pools between your legs. 

He still doesn't stop. You start to squirm under him, forcing the knifes blade to cut jagged into the muscles surrounding your thigh bone, and let out a desperate muffled yelp. The rope burns against your arms as you try to pull against it under your body; simple movements leaving it grating against your bare skin, and making it feel raw from the tightness. There was no way it was coming undone. Angry tears prick the corners of your eyes as the agony refuses to let up, and you let out a strained, forced moan.

But he doesn’t let up.

You look at him in horror as he focuses solely on gripping you tight while hurting you, panting from excitement. He leans over your sweat covered body like a predator about to feast on their prey, after a well deserved hunt. You realize he wasn’t actually going to stop- and he wasn’t here to fuck you.

He was here to torture you until death. This was his feast.

You try to bolt upright after fighting and losing against your restraints- until you're slammed back down by Ghostface's other hand meeting your chest and holding you there. You continue to fidget under his grasp, now becoming desperate to escape the slow mutilation of being pierced with his knife.

"Ah, ah, ah! You know better than to get up, I know you do. So stop looking at me like that, and enjoy what's about to come." He scolds, but in the cheeriest voice you've heard come out of him yet. A quick twist of his wrist turns the knife inside of the wound, and he starts pressing down faster.

You bite down on the gag, breaking the dry skin on your lips and digging your teeth into the sides of your cheeks. The taste of iron fills your mouth as a new surge of agony rips through your thigh, much like the jab of a needle in a pre-existing, infected wound. A doubled pain in the very center of the limb he was cutting into.

You look down to see most of the knife lodged within you, Ghostface pushing down still but no longer able to open up more muscle and tendons. A hard noise comes from deep within it, similar to crack, and a blood curdling scream scratches in your throat as it's kept muted from your bindings. You shut your eyes as tears flood out.

"I was wondering when I'd get to it. Franky, baby, can you keep conscious as I do this next part? I would _really_ appreciate it."

There’s a second of relief as he pulls the knife out, until he quickly pierces it back in, forcing another scream out from deep in your throat and an even louder crack. You can hear him chuckling before adjusting his grip around the blade's handle, now dragging it down towards your knee. He pumps it in a gutting motion, hitting the bone in your leg with every press in as the serrated edge of the knife tears through muscle, tendons and flesh like it was butter.

Blood spills out rapidly, pouring from your leg like a fountain head. It covers everything- Ghostface, the bed, his clothes, and the rest of your body. You look down to see it spilling on to your pale flesh; covering your sex completely in a deep, crimson red.

You aren't sure if you're screaming anymore, but your throat hurts like it is. The crimson blood starts darkening to almost a black, and you realize it was just your vision. It flashes in and out as Ghostface finally reaches just above your knee, and sloppily pulls the knife out, bringing torn bits of flesh out with it. 

You realize your vision was going from blood loss, or shock- maybe both. The gash in your leg draining you out. You keep your eyes on it, vision swirling to match the darkness, and realize you can see flashes of white bone underneath the oozing red in parts. The muscles in your inner thigh stick out, and you gag once more under the mask. A small bit of bile comes up and lingers on your tongue before you have to swallow it back down.

"Admiring my work, baby?" Ghostface coos, before leaning down directly in your face and whispering, "then you're going to love this next one."

You keep your eyes on the gash in your leg as pin pricks move across your chest, above one nipple to the other. The pain is subdued, though- these cuts were light, and quick. Any feeling from them too small to feel compared to your thigh. His heavy, hot breaths smother your face from under the black cloth of the screaming mouths mask, assaulting what was left of your fading senses.

"Perfect!" He yells out, before leaning back and whipping out a polaroid. You close your eyes as the abrupt flash blinds you, adding random, bright spots to the darkness. You can barely make out his figure above you, as he stares at the photo just taken and printed off. He flips it and presses it into your face.

"See? You look so _good_ being branded by me."

You have to strain your eyes to make out details in the photo. The name, 'DANNY', reads out across your chest in jagged, red letters. Small trails of blood drip down from them down your chest and to your sides, mixing with the sweat covering the entirety of your torso. You can see how red around your eyes were, snot covering underneath your nose and face covered with flecks of blood and tears. 

It was beyond degrading.

Danny moves his hand down to your wound, inspecting it. His leather covered fingers trail across the opening, yet somehow you can't feel it. Everything feels muted now; subdued, in a way, like you're underwater. It's almost peaceful.

No, it _was_ peaceful. It was death- the Entity, coming to take you away from this and restore you again. You close your eyes, welcoming it, ignoring the distorted sound of Danny speaking as you relax. It sounds somewhat stern, maybe even angry. You don't care.

Until the feeling of your body jolting you back to reality forces you to look at him. Forces your eyes wide open as a last surge of pain surges through, your body convulsing rapidly underneath him. You can see it; your brain forces you too, but you don't want to but you can see it. 

His hand, deep in your leg where he wormed his fingers in through the initial cut and wrapped them around your bone. His other fingers tore through more muscle, until he fit his entire fist around it. He grips hard, and uses it to drag you down your mattress closer to him- before snapping it under his grip.

You don't want to see the bone stick out.

Your brain is in overdrive- everything is too bright, too loud, too _everything_ , all at once. Your heart is pumping quicker than it ever could, your body hasn't stopped convulsing. You're exploding from the inside out now; you can feel blood coming up from your throat.

There's a small moment where you're disconnected between your body and mind from shock. You can still feel all of it, without really feeling any of it. You can barely process what's happening, but you can _think_ about what it may be.

You think it blood was coming from your throat. You can't taste it or breath out your nose- it was filled with snot from sobbing, and the liquid begged to be released from your mouth. It stays there, pushing against the gag, parts of it dripping down your chin where it was able to escape in small amounts. It blocks your airways and seeps back down into your lungs before you can just swallow it, but it keeps coming anyways. You think it may actually be vomit.

You can see a new face now, watching you intently. You think it's Danny, but with his mask off. The features of the true monster in front of you were spinning too fast and blurred too heavily from asphyxiation, making it impossible to make out any discerning features. You think there's a smile on the face now.

You think you finally stopped convulsing. You think you can feel your heart stop beating.

You think the Entity keeps you there, in your own corpse, for just a few more seconds longer than necessary to feel your own death at the hands of its pet.

**Author's Note:**

> An excessively edgy emo kid band called 'falling in reverse' I used to be in love with as a teen just did a re-imagined cover of their song 'the drug in me is you', and i'm digging it but the original is still wayyy catchier. I think the first few lines really fit this fic well. If you want more DBD content or to send me prompts, or just give me a follow [https://bloodhexx.tumblr.com](at%20my%20blog!). Also if there is grammar issues srry I just really wanted to get this posted finally


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